That Dress
by Aerial312
Summary: Mid-ep tag to "Up in Smoke". Set right before the last scene. Tony appreciates Ziva's black dress after the sting, when they are alone in the squad room.


"That sure is some dress," Tony noted appreciatively as Ziva sat on the counter behind his desk.

She chuckled, crossing one long, sculpted leg over the other, inching the already precariously high hem even higher. God. He swallowed hard.

"I am surprised it took you this long to notice," she told him.

"I noticed earlier," he insisted quickly, raking his eyes up her bare legs for punctuation.

It earned him another of those delicious, throaty chuckles. "Then, I am surprised it took you this long to _comment_," she smiled.

"We were busy."

"Since when does that stop you?" she laughed.

He settled his gaze on her eyes. "Would you prefer I _had_ made some inappropriate comment?"

"It is just…different," she answered.

"Good different?" he asked, curious.

Ziva squinted at him, her expression hard to read. "More mature, certainly." Usually when she said he was more mature, that was a good thing.

"Did you wear that dress to try to get a reaction out of me?" he smirked. Because it kind of seemed like that was the case.

Ziva rolled her eyes in response. "I wore this dress because it was what the job called for."

"Uh huh," he smiled.

"I dressed for a night out on the town," she clarified. "That was the task tonight."

Tony's eyes raked down her body and back to her eyes. She was smiling at his antics. "Do you, uh, normally wear dresses that _short_ and, uh, lowcut, out on town?"

"If the occasion calls for it…" she purred, leaning in, hands on knees.

The dress was too tight to see down, but her new position gave him a nice view of how the top of the dress pushed everything up and out. She was definitely playing with him. "Is that often?" he asked, leaning closer as well.

"No," she sighed. "I've only worn this dress once before."

"Do I want to know-?"

"No," she said.

He nodded. He'd figured that would be the case. The memory had left a scowl on her face. "You look great in it," he told her earnestly. He took her hand, pulsing it in his. She inhaled sharply as his knuckles grazed her bare thigh in the process. "Sorry," he murmured.

She gave his hand a squeeze. "No need to apologize". She settled their still-linked hands on her knee. After a moment of comfortable silence her own eyes swept down her dress and she asked, "Great, you say?"

"Fishing for compliments, are we now, Ms. David?"

She sighed in exasperation. "Well, you just said—"

"I did," he grinned. "Particularly with your gun drawn."

"Yes, I imagine that is something right out of one of your action movies, yes?"

"Sure is," he smiled. "And in Interrogation earlier."

"In Interrogation?"

"That was really fucking hot. Going all bad ass in your short, little, black dress."

"Bad ass?" she laughed.

"Oh yeah," he laughed. On her curious look, he added, "You know what that means."

She nodded. "I did not realize you were watching."

"I wanted to see what that idiot had to say."

"And…?"

"And watch you be all hot and tough in _that_ dress," he admitted. He hadn't really been all the interested in what Maple had to say. Well, professionally he had, until Ziva strode into that interrogation room in her little black dress and got all tough with the guy. Then that was all he could focus on. Clearly, Ziva could tell that was the case. Sometimes she knew him too well. She was watching this all play out on his face with amusement, toying with his hand in hers. That felt nice. His eyes drifted closed.

The phone on Gibbs' desk rang, drawing him out of his happy little fantasy. His eyes blinked open.

_Ring_.

"Should I?" he asked.

Ziva nodded.

He stood and crossed quickly to the boss' desk. "Gibbs' desk, DiNozzo- …And he didn't make it home?...When did she call?...No, I agree, he should have been home at least a half hour ago. Keep us posted."

He hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

"What has happened?" Ziva asked, as he crossed back to his desk. "That was Director Vance's security detail. He insisted on driving himself home. Jackie called them to see what the hold up was when she couldn't get a hold of her husband. He never made it home. They have no idea where he is."

"Oh, no."

"I have to call Gibbs."

She nodded. He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. It rang almost immediately. 'Gibbs' the screen read.

"Does he know already?" Ziva asked, reading the screen over his shoulder.

"I didn't think so." He slid his finger down the screen to answer the call. "Boss…"


End file.
